


Pleasure Palace

by Bonfoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is never exactly what you planned when you were eleven, and Draco never thought he'd find happiness in place that was advertised by the words:</p>
<div class="center"></div><div class="center"></div><div class="center"></div>
<div class="center">
  <p>~ Just a swish and flick, and you’ll be right as rain!~</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasure Palace

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _Dedicated to Tino Romero, gone from us July 2005. The world was a better place for having your punk self in it! Here’s to all the music you’ll get to hear before us poor mortals… If there was one friend who would have thought my writing slash was grand, it would have been you. Whenever there’s lightning and fireworks, I’ll think of you…the angel wearing leather and chains…_  
> 
> 
> ~~~^~~~^~~~^~~~^~~~^~~~^~~~

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

**_ Disclaimer:_** The world of Harry Potter, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., her publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life. 

This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

**  
Daily Prophet advertisement  
**

Voted favorite spa of the year: Potter’s Pleasure Emporium  
~ Just a swish and a flick, and you’ll be right as rain!

__/|\\__

Finally, it was over. He’d survived the Dursleys, Voldemort, and the adulation of the Wizarding World, even Dumbledore’s attempts at marrying him off! Harry Potter was his own man! One who owned a very popular business right next to the Leaky Cauldron, magical side.

_Now, it’s not what you think…Well, for some of the more lascivious in the crowd, it really and truly is!_ Harry had had enough of cursing and hexing to last him a lifetime. He craved something one hundred and eighty degrees from where he’d stood after Moldy Voldie had been obliterated…Thus, the opening of Potter’s Pleasure Emporium.

He’d modeled it on the ancient Roman baths; actually, very much like the one in Bath, England! It was surrounded by Confundus charms, notice-me-not charms, and even an intricately woven Fidelius charm—in order to get in, clients had to be invited in via special port-keys. Ingenious really, as Harry could control his clientele’s access and knowledge. He even had Obliviate stations before the doors, to wipe the memories of any rowdy customers or Muggles that came in.

Everything was perfect. Almost…

__/|\\__

Long, lean legs…tight arse covered with supple, worn denim…flexing muscles, rippling and twitching…strong back, curved in a cat-like stretch…torso clothed in a button-down white linen shirt with long-sleeves rolled up to expose corded forearms…devastatingly innocent smile…and a blind right eye. All but the last were the things one might easily notice about the proprietor of Potter’s Pleasure Emporium. It had been the patch on his right eye that threw those chosen to get close to him, a very select few. In the beginning, most people usually just said ‘goodbye’ if they saw the ruined eye behind it.

Harry had been wearing a glamour ever since Madam Pomfrey told him they couldn’t save the sight in his right eye while he recovered from the last battle with Moldy Voldie. As a consolation prize, they did fix his left eye to slightly better than perfect. _What a crock!_ So, now his trademark glasses were sleek, fashionable, and just for looks. With a few charms, he had the green eyes everyone had always remarked on; those who saw him without his glamour saw one bright jade green eye and a scarred, green and red-swirled orb in place of his other eye.

For the past two years, the Savior of the Wizarding World had been a very lonely man. One night, he indulged his Slytherin side and figured out a way to get what he wanted, without having to grovel for it; the net result was a contract with Magic Hands Greenhouse, Salem, Massachusetts, and the impending arrival of Draco Malfoy as representative and on-site horticulturalist.

__/|\\__

“Pansy! Pansy! I refuse to go another step until you tell me where we’re going!” Draco Malfoy had done the smartest thing he could do during the war; he’d grabbed as many Dark Arts objects and books from Malfoy Manor and gone directly to Dumbledore. From there, he’d been given Veritaserum, been poked and prodded for tracking spells and the like, and finally, set down in front of Amelia Bones. She’d had the final interrogation of the young wizard. Because of her, the blond was allowed to emigrate to America for his safety. Thus, he spent the war far, far away.

Not that many could really blame him. Once Lucius Malfoy found out his son had sold him up the river for immunity and safe passage, he was at turns enraged and proud. The boy had been thinking for himself more and more, questioning the Dark Lord’s plans once their side won the war. Somehow, the brat had figured it out before his own father; under Voldemort, purebloods were going to be nothing but breeders and powerless followers, not honored citizens.

With the Dark Magic items and books safe in the vaults of the Ministry of Magic, and Draco lost somewhere in the land of the Yanks, Harry could fight with a clear conscience; he wouldn’t have to hurt the blond Adonis. It especially helped since Lucius had also turned his coat and denounced the former Tom Riddle as a pompous windbag with delusions of grandeur. Once that was done, it was a quick job from whittling down the remaining ranks of Death Eaters to finally destroying Voldemort and his mortal body.

Which, of course, freed Pansy Parkinson from her arranged marriage and let her hunt down and trap the Weasley Twins as her unofficial spouses…well, after two years of living and loving together, that’s what most people called them! Even the Weasley Pater and Mater had had to give in to the force that is Pansy when she sets out for something. The Twins seemed more content with their Slytherin girlfriend-cum-common law wife, and their tricks weren’t always blowing up during family gatherings these days; that would have made Pansy mad, and a mad Pansy meant no sex for days. 

They had the last laugh on everyone anyways; Pansy Parkinson had been hit with a strange hex that when removed had pulled a family curse off of her as well. The infamous pug-face and cloyingly sweet voice gave way to a va-va-voom black-haired bombshell with legs that went on forever and a sultry sway in her walk that just begged for two men, all topped by a husky voice that was always enticing!

As a treat, her two ‘boys’ had given her a visit to the newest craze to sweep the post-Voldemort world: Potter’s Pleasure Emporium. She kept them sane and happy, so why wouldn’t they return the favor? Even better, she got to drag along Draco Malfoy, who hadn’t set foot in the United Kingdom for two and a half years!

The Malfoy heir had changed plenty in that time. His hair was spiky and tipped with what looked like real gold; he glistened in the sun when he turned! For being such a wispy boy, more prone to blowing away than standing firm, he now had lean muscles, and those wonderful forearms manual laborers had; he said he got them gardening. 

In all honesty, Draco Malfoy hadn’t wanted to be around too many people when he left, and since he loved potions and the rare ingredients that could be used for them, he’d started hanging out in a wizarding greenhouse near Salem, Mass. It was just a short turn to being bamboozled into picking up a pot and moving it across the building to hefting topiary plantings and then learning to drive a small lift-truck. But, Malfoys never work, thus, he was an avid gardener when asked.

Part of the reason Draco had returned to the U.K. was the huge ingredient order for Potter’s Pleasure Emporium. His employer didn’t trust the ship—yes, Potter had ordered enough for a freighter’s-worth of live plants, dried ingredients, and the special fertilizers for some homegrown plants to be imported—hence the shepherding under Draco’s critical eye. The fact that Harry Potter had built and was running a pleasure palace had nothing to do with his interest in delivering the shipment. _Nothing at all!_

__/|\\__

The steam rose above the Olympic-sized pool. The mineral-rich hot spring feeding it kept the pool just slightly warmer than bath water, making it one of the more relaxing places Harry liked to be.

The statue of Sulis Minerva, carved in Carrera marble with accents of gold leaf and silver wire, watched over the main pool with a serene gaze. Harry never tired of looking at her, and wishing he’d met someone like her growing up. She would have made a great counselor for such a lonely, troubled boy. Hell, he would have wanted his mother to be like he imagined Sulis Minerva: strong, loving, tender, gentle, firm—everything a boy needed to become a good man!

He ducked under the water, washing away the unconscious tears. _Enough of that! Draco was coming!_ He bobbed up and floated towards the middle of the pool, enjoying the quiet and the warmth. 

The special herb gardens were waiting for Malfoy’s touch; the plants had come the week before, and the Magic Hands gardening instructions had been carried out to the letter. Now, the emporium garden just needed the horticultural charms and wards put up. 

His favorite plant had to be the Holy Ghost Ipomopsis, with its multiple flowers all done up in deep pinks. It was a very rare flower, found only in one canyon in the American Southwest; it had been a fixture in their native wizarding world a thousand years ago, but, only a few people knew just how valuable it was to healing. Harry had stumbled onto a text written in medieval High German translated from Arabic that had told of using it in medicinal baths, and he’d had to have it in his gardens.

__/|\\__

Pansy activated her Port-key and smiled at Draco when they landed in the spa. She headed for the women’s spa with a wave and a giggle. The whole day was planned out, and her friend would catch up to her later in the day. Though, if everyone was lucky, it’d take him a few days to get back to her. She snickered as she turned her back, bobbing in time with the music.

Looking up at the fluted columns and plain capstones, all of them in varying shades of veined marble, Draco was impressed. Who knew that Harry Sodding Potter had such exquisite taste? And, the music…If Draco wasn’t mistaken, Siouxsie and the Banshees was playing in the background. Trust Potter to be a classic punk fan!

In niches along the wall, there were antique bottles of all shapes, sizes, and colors. It was like having large gems set into the walls; they added such a welcome splash of color. It was a unique collection; most of them from the American, Dr. Kilmer, but a few were La Sanadora medicine bottles. There was even a 1905 advertising placard in a place of honor: 

__

This infallible medicine cures: Rheumatism, Sprains, Countusions, Scratches, Headache, Sore Throat, Coughs, Stings of Insects and Reptile Bites, Contraction of Muscles and Tendons, Stiff Joints, Pain in the Breast and Back, Lumbago, Kidney Trouble, Neuralgia, Toothache, Sore Nipples, Burns, Earache, Catarrh, Fever, Chills, Colics, Cholera, Piles, Pain in the Guams, Itching and all painful afflictions. For sale in all drug stores. Price 35¢ a bottle.

In a wizarding spa, the sign was definitely good for a laugh!

The Americanized blond shook his head and stepped up to the receptionist, a roundish young witch with pleasant sherry brown eyes. Luckily, Potter had sent along a special Port-key invitation for Draco, otherwise he was certain he would have just admired the architecture and continued on his way. With a charming smile, he asked for Mr. Potter.

“Oh, you must be Mr. Malfoy. If you’d sign the guest book, it will let him know you’re here.” She handed him a peacock quill for the book. Instead of signing in himself, all he had to do was touch the feather to the page for his name to appear in his handwriting.

Within two minutes, he heard what he’d been waiting for, “So, you came, Malfoy.” The voice that had played havoc in his dreams had gotten deeper with age, with a tinge of melancholy threading through it. Whatever had given that whiskey burn to Harry’s voice, it would be replaying in his fantasies tonight.

“Follow me, I’ll walk you to the gardens and you can see what we’ve done.” Harry’s good eye barely blinked as he took in the improved Draco. _He’s become more of a hunk, and was that a tan on what had been the milkiest skin ever seen?_

__/|\\__

The morning and afternoon sped by on winged feet. Harry loved to wander his gardens, listening to Draco explain the plants’ uses, even redesigning some of the beds for later in the planting season. They’d shared more touches in that time than they had in their fights and Quidditch games during school. Surreptitiously, both of them had to adjust themselves more and more.

“The sun is going down, Draco. It’s time for supper. Want to come with me to The Concrete Blonde? They serve a good spread on Thursday nights,” tumbled pell-mell out of Harry’s mouth. He didn’t want to miss anymore of Draco’s laughter.

“The Concrete Blonde? London has changed more than I remember.” Draco hoped Harry was nervous for the same reason he was; they wanted each other like vampires desired blood. Without a thought, he grabbed Harry’s hand and smiled. “I’d love to! It’s been years since I had decent pub food. It’s half-past five now, how far are they?”

__/|\\__

Dinner was full of interesting anecdotes and sly touches as they passed napkins and condiments back and forth. Each minute spent with one another ratcheted up the unresolved sexual tension in them. Like a boiler under pressure, something had to give soon.

“Look…we’ve talked, we’ve laughed, but one thing you never heard was why **you’re** here…” Harry fiddled with the crumpled napkin sitting on the table. “I asked specifically for you. I saw your picture in one of the brochures the Magic Hands folks had sent.”

“You planned all this? Potter, I think I’m flattered.” The Malfoy smirk was out in full force. Draco let his eyes openly caress the lush adult Harry Potter; it had been a long time coming but he was finally home.

“Why don’t we go back to the Emporium and you can show me your favorite pool? I need to work out some kinks from my trip.” The suggestive tone of voice had Harry’s right hand reaching down to readjust himself yet again.

“Right! Oi, miss? Check?”

__/|\\__

“Where did you learn to do that, Harry?” panted Draco. They were working toward their second shag of the night, and Harry’s talented tongue had teased and tasted him, lingering on—and in—his puckered hole with loving attention. His talented fingers were still pushing in and out of Draco, tickling his prostate with each odd thrust.

“I’ve never done it to anyone else; it’s so intimate, it’s for the man I love,” was mumbled against Draco’s lower back. Harry rubbed his cheek against the ridge of Draco’s spine. With another swipe of his tongue, he traced a scar on his lover’s bum; he’d have to ask how he’d gotten it some other time.

“Draco, I can’t wait any longer…I have to be in you…” Harry’s voice rumbled through the former Slytherin’s bones, it was so low. He responded by pressing his hips back towards the brunet, and mewling his consent. Reaching out blindly, Harry snagged one of a variety of lube pots scattered around them; each one enhanced something, touch, taste, scent, but all were great for shagging, too.

His fingers quickly left and a welcome pressure was pushing into Draco. He was so very glad he’d come home...

__/|\\__

“Rise and shine, golden one…” a throaty voice purred in Harry’s ear as a questing hand woke up other parts of him. Silky lips were exploring the skin of his jaw and just under his left ear. _What a way to greet the new day!_

“Mmm…like the wake-up call…” Harry moaned out. Blindly reaching out, he found that Draco was laying on his right side, and began petting the skin his fingers found. Draco’s squirming brought him over Harry’s leg, which he proceeded to slither up and down. 

Opening his eyes, Harry saw the instant Draco realized he wasn’t perfect. The darkness had covered a multitude of sins, but the sunrise wasn’t so forgiving. Harry closed his eyes; he didn’t want to see the look on Draco’s face. What the blond did next would come back in Harry’s dreams as the sweetest thing: he blinked, leaned down and gently kissed Harry’s fluttering eyelids. 

“Harry, you can’t help being unique, can you? Will you always show me your true self?” Draco mouthed the questions against Harry’s throat, just behind his ear. He never stopped touching or kissing his lover as he spoke. “You’re mine, Potter…and I’ll always want you, all of you,” he murmured.

__/|\\__

Two years later, Draco stood in front of a Druid priest, surrounded by the standing stones of Stonehenge, waiting for the man who seemed to fulfill his dreams even before he dreamt them.

He’d only been back to the States to pick up his things and show Harry that Southwestern canyon where the Holy Ghost Ipomopsis grew. It was there that he gave Harry a promise ring of hammered silver with a polished turquoise in it. Harry responded with a resounding ‘yes’ and pulled a silver bracelet from the air; he’d wanted to promise Draco the same thing.

They’d learned so much about each other, and the wonders of Harry’s garden. Each time Draco got a new book of plants, they had to enlarge the gardens, until they were now their own attraction, open to both Muggle and Wizarding London. Sometimes, Draco couldn’t believe the harmony he’d found with Harry.

“Draco?” Harry whispered. A soft touch on his wrist, and the blond was blinking his eyes up at the priest. 

“Draco Malfoy, do you bind yourself to Harry Potter, now and forever?” the wizened Druid intoned.

Smiling into Harry’s eyes, both good and bad, Draco answered, “With all my heart, with all my love, and with all my magic.” 

“Harry Potter, do you bind yourself to Draco Malfoy, now and forever?”

“Wi-with all my heart, with all my love, and with all my magic.” Harry’s voice wobbled but didn’t break as he stared into the eyes of the man he loved.

Neither of them was perfect, but, together...together, they made dreams come true.

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

  


_If you ever meet any sweet boys who wear leather collars and chains, with a smile that warms your heart, and soft voice…be kind to them. They might be the most unique friend you’ll ever have the privilege of meeting._

_~~~_

§¤§¤*§*¤§¤§ 

_~~~ Comments, like rain in the desert, are greatly appreciated.  
Thank you for reading. ~~~_

Information on the Roman baths of Bath, England, United Kingdom may be found at: http://www.romanbaths.co.uk/

For more information about Holy Ghost Ipomopsis: http://www.findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0ASV/is_3_28/ai_105619073  
Or just Google it.


End file.
